“Accidents happen.” I stare at the mess on the floor.

“I’ll replace it. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for—” He stops, bites his lip, then adds, “It was five billion dollars, wasn’t it? That bowl? I’ll owe you my whole week’s pay. Oh my God.”

“Wal-Mart.”

He lifts his eyebrows at me. When he sees that I’m teasing him, a flicker of relief hits his eyes.

It’s short-lived. He takes a step, discovers his pants came loose somehow, and they drop to his ankles at once, thwarting the step he’s trying to take. Trevor goes nose-diving into the floor.

I’m at his side in seconds. “Trevor. You alright?”

His eyes flash as he curls onto his side. “I fell on my dick.”

“Huh?”

“I broke your cute glass bowl, and I fell on my dick.” He cups his crotch. “I think it’s okay. I’m not. This was such a mistake. I shouldn’t have followed Elijah’s stupid, stupid advice.”

My face wrinkles. “Who the hell’s Elijah?”

Trevor reaches to pull his pants up with one hand while keeping his junk gripped firmly by the other—not that I would have seen anything with his briefs still on.

His tight, sexy black briefs.

Yes, even in this situation, I’m still fighting the urge to tackle Trevor right back to the floor, rip off those briefs of his, and take him. I can’t ignore the beast when it’s been let out to play.

But apparently Trevor can. He’s already halfway to the door, and I still don’t know what the hell I did. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not the guy you were looking for tonight,” he throws over his shoulder, half-looking at me as he walks. “Sorry for being a big waste of time. Really. If I led you on, I’m sorry. I’m just not … I just can’t—”

He crashes into the door.

I sigh. “You planning to go home on a stretcher?”

He turns and scowls at me, rubbing his rosy cheek. I guess the crash sounded worse than it actually was. Then, as if he literally wasn’t aware of the fact that he’s still half dressed, a hand flies up to his chest, a look of alarm on his face. “My shirt,” he exclaims.

I fetch it from the floor, then hold it in front of me, waiting. No, I don’t bring it to him; I make him come to me.

And he does. He stands before me now in all his pretty boy glory, his expression turning sheepish when he takes the shirt.

But I don’t let go. “Why are you fleeing, Trevor? Tell me.”

He scowls again, trying to pull the shirt from my powerful grip. “Let go. Please.”

“Why are you running off like a scared cat? Did I scare you?”

“I hate cats.”

“You honestly telling me you don’t want any of this?” I give a demonstrative gesture down my body with my free hand. His tug-of-war efforts with his shirt do nothing to budge me in the least.

He stops struggling and stares me down, angry at once.

I lift an eyebrow. “Looks like I struck a nerve.”

“A nerve?” He takes a step closer, coming nearly nose to nose with me. “You must think awful highly of yourself, Ben. You throw around all your money in my face, like that’s supposed to impress me or something.”

“Huh?”

“Six-hundred-dollar this. Two-thousand-dollar that. You think that’s all some guy like me cares about? Money? Ass? Wine?”

“No. I’m pretty sure you care about at least one other thing.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like what I’m packing in my pants.”

He huffs so hard, I have to fight a smile. I can’t get enough of this dude. The battle’s not lost yet. I’ll get him to stay.

Using the shirt as a tether of sorts, I yank him closer, then slowly lean into his ear. “It’s big,” I promise him in a whisper.

He pulls away and scalds me with his glare. “You looked at me across the club, and all you saw was an easy lay. You didn’t see—or care to see—anything deeper. Maybe all the other guys you’ve fished out of that dirty hole of a nightclub were quick to bite and quicker to … to fuck.” Now it’s his turn to lean into my ear. “But I’m not one of those pretty boys. And I’ll never be.”

I shut him up by pulling his face against mine and forcing a kiss on his lips. He resists for only a split second before, with a tiny sigh of delight—we’ll say it’s delight—he succumbs to my kiss.

When it ends, our hips remain pressed against one another. We’re still gripping the shirt tightly, a thread or two popping from the tension. I watch him lick his lips, as if tasting me on them.

Then I flex my cock. His flexes in response, which causes him to look up at me with a glint of surprise in his eyes.

I smirk superiorly. “I knew you still wanted me.”

Trevor rolls his eyes, lets go of the shirt at once, and heads for the door.

Tags: Daryl Banner M-M Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net